


A Hobbity Bedtime Story for Wicked Times and Sleepless Nights

by canadasuperhero



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadasuperhero/pseuds/canadasuperhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin had only been deemed old enough to hear of Smaug this past summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hobbity Bedtime Story for Wicked Times and Sleepless Nights

Once upon a time there was a little hobbit lad.

Now, this hobbit was a very young hobbit and his name was Peregrin Took (though no one called him Peregrin and preferred instead to call him Pippin). Pippin was the youngest of four, with him the only boy, so you can imagine what horrible things those girls did to him (he being only as high as their knees and unable to fight off sisters intent on dressing him in frocks).

And so the little lad was only too happy when the summer came and his magnificent uncle Bilbo would come, pockets full of toffees, to fly Pippin away from his clutching tormentors and off to Bag End and his cousins Frodo and Merry. Oh what fun, Pippin would squeal, sticking his tongue out over Bilbo’s shoulder as the harpies made known (shrieking and pouting) their displeasure at loosing such a perfect bride for their weddings!

It was a long way to Bag End from Tuckburough (Where Pippin’s da was a _farmer_ ) and along the way Pip and his Uncle Bilbo stopped for second breakfast (boiled eggs, brown bread and thick butter) as well as elevensies (Bilbo dug sweet apples from his bag and sharp cheese that he’d wrapped in damp cloth and they borrowed a near-by cow — ‘Shh,’ Uncle Bilbo waved to a giggling Pip. ‘Steady on lad, or we’ll be caught!’ — for fresh milk) and lunch soon to come for they would stop in Hobbiton as a special treat and have butter tarts and strawberries and cream after sliced ham and gravy (Pippin nearly swooned off the horse at the very thought of such treats) before making their way on up, finally, to Bag End for tea with his two favourite people in the entire world (Well, and Bilbo and Sam of course)

‘This is an Adventure, isn’t it Uncle Bilbo?’ Pippin squeaked, bouncing up and down much to the annoyance of the pony. ‘Oh, do you think we will see a dragon?’ For Pippin had only been deemed old enough to hear of Smaug just this last summer and the idea of it was still fresh in his mind.

‘Well, we might very well, my lad, we might very well.’ Bilbo nodded and looked mysterious and pulled a toffee from his pocket (much to Pip’s delight) ‘Do you think, Peregrin, that there might be one about?’

‘Oh!’ And Pip craned himself around, scanning the skies excitedly. ‘Is that one, there!’ 

‘Why, dear boy, I think it must be!’ Here Bilbo pulled him tight against him and Pip shivered with a bit of happy fright. ‘And I think he has spotted those gems you mistook for eyes, lad! We must hurry to Bag End before he catches up with us and takes you off to add to his horde!’

And while the thought of flying high over the Shire was a delight to Pippin he thought he might miss his mam and papa (though not those horrid harpies) and he would miss tea time and _Merry_. 

‘Oh, oh, hurry then, uncle! I think he’s catching up!’ Pippin squeaked out once again, his voice made even higher with excitement.

His uncle, great Adventurer that he was, did not pause to consider but instead leaned his head close to Pippin’s and whispered. ‘We shall ride faster then any hobbit ever has, my lad, my gem-eyed treasure. We shall not let this dragon keep us from our tea!’ So saying, he pressed his heels tight and up and away from Hobbiton they flew, so fast that all Pip could make of the passing gentlehobbits was a streak of fabric and faint shouts of alarm and so he cried after them, ‘A dragon, a dragon you see!’

‘Is he behind us, Peregrin? Look, look up, can you see him give chase?’ And oh, he could, there he was and Pippin shivered in horrified delight.

‘There, Uncle Bilbo, he’s right behind us, he’s making a swoop!’

‘Duck, my lad, cover your bright eyes from his sight for it is those he seeks!’ And Pippin did, burying his head in his uncle’s jacket, feeling Bilbo’s arms tighten around him. And then he felt thin leathery wings like leaves brush against his arms and he shrieked. ‘Is it him, Uncle Bilbo, is it Smaug?’

‘Indeed it is, he is upon us, but do not give up heart, Peregrin, for I see home just ahead. Home and a surprise for our dragon!’

‘What is it, Uncle?!’ Pippin cried. And Bilbo gave a breathless chuckle. ‘Keep your head down, my lad, we are nearly there. And when I tell you, you must cry out these words, lad. Cry them loudly and strongly until you cannot feel the beating of our dragon’s wings anymore! You must cry for me ‘I am home, I am home and you shall not pass!’ Now Pip, now lad, cry it!’

And Pippin did, raising his voice and his head, his eyes tightly shut. ‘I am home! I am home and you _shall. Not. **Pass**_!’

Silence. The winds stilled around them as the pony was halted under Bilbo’s careful hands.

Pippin opened one eye. Nothing there. He opened the other. Nothing to that side either.

And then he spun and nearly fell from the pony as the door to Bag End opened. ‘Uncle Bilbo, whatever is all this racket? You have woken Merry and I from a delightful nap in the library.’

‘Frodo!’ Pippin crowed and scrambled down to meet his cousin. “Frodo, Merry, you missed the dragon, didn’t you? Oh he was marvellous and he wanted my _eyes_ , you see! Thought they were gems!’ And he flung himself into Frodo’s arms, missing the bewildered look his elder cousin shot down at his head.

‘Dragon?’ Merry scoffed (for Merry was very nearly a Tween and scoffing at the fancies of children —even those who would be nearly teens next winter — was what tweens did) ‘There are no dragons in the Shire, Pipsqueak.’

But Pippin knew there were. For Bilbo had said so and there wasn’t any more to it then that so he ignored Merry for the time. ‘Oh, Frodo, he was huge, as big as a could and nearly as white and I felt his wings beat against my arms.’ And Frodo (Frodo, after all, understood such things as dragons and Adventures far better then Merry) nodded. ‘I’m certain you did, little one. And have arrived just in time from some current jam on biscuits and a cup of sweet tea, too! What a wonderful adventure to have, to arrive just in time to eat!’

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older work and will probably be taken down and re-edited sometime this summer but it seemed appropriate to put it up now.


End file.
